Souls Kept In A Cage v/v

Her creamy lace and frills replaced by a black cotton dress
In contrast to the flesh, a whiter shade of pale*
Eyes dark from the first sight of light
Where cries of breath filled her empty lungs
Air in place of water, for a new born daughter
Monsters under her bed, demons floating in her head
Days and nights creeping about, collecting souls, crying out
Feeding them stories no one else hears or sees the trail of her tears
A bakers dozen of personalities
The mechanic, an artist, the care giver to those born of her thoughts
The doer, a thinker, the protector of all their hearts
The inspirer, a giver, the performer that hides the group inside
The guardian, an adult, the child that never grew up
The woman that lives in a world
Her souls kept in a cage, happy, to be

“The only real revolution is in the enlightenment of the mind and the improvement of character, the only real emancipation is individual, and the only real revolutionaries are philosophers and saints.” — Will Durant